


Caught In a Web

by pottymouthno



Series: Caught [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, Fluff, Multi, slightly lacking in dialogue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:31:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pottymouthno/pseuds/pottymouthno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco suffers negative thoughts surrounding his situation and his dependency on Jean. As the days go on, he finds himself associating with Christa, an owner of a flower shop he starts to frequent, and the trio Armin, Eren, and Mikasa who recently move into the city. Mikasa becomes a regular at Jean's job, and it worries Marco as Jean becomes enamored by this new beauty. Insecurities start to rain in Marco's mind and lies and evasion start to frequent his and Jean's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Marigold**

  
Rays of light beat down, illuminating the space within confined walls. Several sheets lay in wild messes across the bed and floor, barely covering the body that spreads across the comfortable nest of pillows. I laugh a bit, staring down at him. Warmth and joy spreading within myself as I watch the man before me snore, ignorant of the waking world. I sat down beside him, cupping his cheek before stroking his hair, humming in bliss as the tick tock of the clock fights against the quiet. I leaned down, kissing him lightly on the cheek before ruffling at his hair.

  
“Jean, it’s time to wake up,” I urged him to fight off sleep. “It’s not good to be late to work after taking a day off.”

  
He grumbles and swats at my hand, attempting to bury himself within the pillows and blankets, grappling to pull them over his head. A huff escapes my lips before I rip everything away from him and grin. Cackling, I hover my hand over his side, brushing it ever so slightly, watching as he flinches a bit and scurries backwards, still attempting to ward off responsibility. A shriek bounces off the walls of the room, rustling and thumps follow close. Swearing is heard from the other side of the bed as Jean clutch at his side from the sudden attack. His nose flares and lips curl downward as he stares at me, clearly not amused from my actions.  
“What the fuck, Marco! Couldn’t you have woken me up normally?”

  
I smile sheepishly at him, and apologize. I tell him that he wouldn’t wake up at first and was being stubborn, so there was no other choice. I shrug a bit and walk out of the room with the knowledge that his conscious is completely clear, though probably a bit miffed from such a rough awakening.

  
I move into the kitchen to make a bit of breakfast as Jean prepares for the day. The fridge is near empty, making me frown a bit. I had little to work with, but there was enough for breakfast to be made without worries. As I cook, I cautiously move around. After the accident and a loss of a limb and an eye, I generally had to take a bit more time to do even the simplest of tasks, but I feel a bit more comfortable each day that passes.

  
Jean enters the kitchen, drifting towards me to try and sneak a taste or two of the food before I finish. I did not prevent him from doing such as he always gets his way, but I send him a look to show that I am displeased with his actions. He grins up at me, shrugging and mumbling about payback. I huff and look the other way, attempting to ignore his presence as I grab at an apple and move to the table.

  
I hear him, laughing under his breath and soon, I feel arms around my stomach and his body flush against mine. He kisses the back of my head before moving back to the kitchen, then to the table with both plates in his arms, settling everything before moving back to me, eyes staring into mine. A smile escapes me, my face heating from the attention he gives me, before he pulls me down for a kiss, chaste and gentle, before removing himself and walking back to the table, this time, settling down. I follow his lead, smile stuck on my face as I sat beside him. There is little conversation between us as he has to leave soon for work. Though I do attempt to make him slow down, he rushes through the meal, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and runs off to work.

  
I stand there a bit, staring at the closed door, and slowly bring myself to clean the dishes. After the dishes were down, I scribble out a grocery list as neatly as I could, before making my way outside. I venture the same route, smiling and greeting those I recognize, before reaching the store. As I gather the produce that I’ve listed, I decided to add in some extra fruits as snacks and a few bars of chocolate, as I felt that I needed a bit more sweetness to consume. After paying, I slowly walk back home, taking in the scenery I see every day. I hum a bit, deciding that I would take a walk after putting the grocery away, pondering which route to take.

  
Once back in my home, I place the grocery into the cabinets, fridge and freezer, making sure to leave a bar of chocolate on the counter as a reminder that I have some in possession. Making my way back to the door, I hesitate. My mind wanders and I nearly turn back to stay in the house, but I force myself forward and away from the negative thoughts creeping in my mind. Outside the building, I stand there taking in a deep breath before heading off towards a destination that I, myself, am not sure of. There are sights and sounds I have yet to see in the city, and I am slowly finding them, expanding my world once again. One such sight was a flower shop tucked between two houses, nearly empty aside from a worker and a customer. I stop and look at the layout, simple yet elegant, sporting swirls of crème over white. Much of the shop itself is crème and white, delicate and calming, encasing potted flowers of all colors and packets of seeds and supplies behind the desk.  
Soon, I find myself walking into the shop, the bell overhead ringing along with a bright welcome from the worker. Her bright, blue eyes twinkle as she smiles and brushes back her blonde hair before getting back to the customer from before. I look around aimlessly, staring at the different flowers before me, unsure of whether I should purchase something.

  
“That one is a marigold, beautiful and bright, though it holds a slightly negative meaning in some cases.”

  
I jolt a bit, frighten out of my thoughts, turning around and staring down at blue eyes. She apologizes from startling me, giving me a small smile before telling me of the marigold, a flower found all over the world and symbolizes in passion, but also of negative emotions such as grief, jealousy and despair. Her eyes wander over to my right side briefly before flicking to stare into my eyes, making me feel as though she knew the festering emotions deep within me. Letting go of a breath I did not know I held, I ask for a few of the marigolds. She smiles and prepares them for me, waving me farewell as I head out. Holding a bundle of marigolds, I look down at them before heaving a sigh and walking back home.

  
Upon entering the room, silence welcomes me and engulfs my own greeting to myself, whispering sadness into my ears. I settle the marigolds on top of the kitchen table before walking into the room, staring at the mess of pillows and sheets, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread fill me as I walk closer and closer to the bed.  
“You’re just over reacting. Everything is fine.”

  
My face heats up and my vision mists a bit before I start to lift the pillows into a neater pile and fold a few of the blankets to settle on one side of the bed before pulling the rest over my body. I close my eyes before repeating the mantra a few more times, slowly being engulfed in darkness.

  
I wake to a hand shaking me, my eye cracking open before a yawn escapes me. I rub at my eye and get up, staring at the body hovering over me. Jean is home and back with me. I lift myself up, hugging him into me tightly, breathing in before moving back. He looks concerned, and I smile a bit before welcoming him home.

  
“Are you ok?”

  
“I’m fine,” I answer before stretching. I honestly feel fine now that he was back. I grin before settling back into the bed, patting at the pile of folded blankets beside me. He huffs a bit, with a look of suspicion before hopping into bed, asking me the same question. I smile lightly at him, leaning on his side, giving him the same answer as before. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, kissing at the top of my head, nuzzling it a bit before rolling on top of me completely, staring deep into my eyes before settling a kiss on my lips. His eyes shift to the right of my face, asking for permission to which I nod at, before settling a few light brushes of lips against scars. He travels slowly, moving his kisses upwards before settling over my eye patch, giving it one last kiss before shifting and placing his forehead against mine. We stay there, him on top of me, forehead together, breathing in the same rhythm, content with just ourselves for the moment. After a while, he crawls down a bit and settles his head against my chest, above my heart. His eyes shut as he listens, and I feel my heart racing a bit more, feelings welling within myself as I watch him.

  
“I’m so glad you’re alive,” he whispers almost to himself, so quiet I nearly did not catch it. My breath is caught and I couldn’t speak as my mind suspends in a whirl of thoughts and my heart beats even more wildly. A small laugh and lips curl up as he stare back at me, eyes twinkling with happiness. “I’m so glad.”

  
My lips start to tremble as emotions shove its way out of me. I want to tell him how glad I am to have him by my side and spend my days with him, but a croak only escapes my lips. He understands me and his hand comes to mind, intertwining our fingers together. He pulls them towards him and kisses the back of my hand before settling back down to rest. We lie there, listening to one another’s breathing, enjoying the company. Soon, he gets up and walks out of the bedroom, returning with the marigolds.

  
“What are these for?” He questions with an eyebrow slightly lifted. I smile at him, heart racing again before I settle my sights on the marigolds.

  
“The meaning of marigolds is passion.”

  
And so I smother these dark emotions into the back of my mind.


	2. Pink Camellia

A few weeks after I brought home the marigolds, I constantly return to the flower shop, taking different flowers home as a way to divert my mind to the beauty of life rather than the dark recess of my mind. As Christa and I grow a comfortable friendship, I learn of flowers and their meanings and Ymir, someone who supports Christa whole heartedly. They once threw me glances of suspicion, keeping close to Christa before finding out that I hold no threat towards their relationship with Christa, to which they cackle and slap me in the back.

The clock ticks and tocks and I stare aimlessly out the window, unsure of what to do for the day. Jean has been staying in for more hours, claiming that he wants to depend less on his parents and more on himself, and the thought makes me both proud and jealous. I fear that my loneliness clouds my sense of self and the inability to do things as efficiently hovers over my mind every part of the day as I take minutes longer to finish things and more times evading a space I did not notice or did not pay much mind to until reflexes kick in. I think to myself how dependent I became of Jean and of my parents who send me money to support me in my slump, and I start to resent that I do not take charge and fight against this obstacle with even more effort. And then my mind halts and haunts me with insults and self-pity as I still caution around my own home.

As these thoughts pour into my mind, I turn towards the door and tell myself that it’s time for me to leave and take some time out of the house so that I can get away from such negative thoughts rather than allow myself to continue. I get up and put on my shoes and out the door I went, still unsure of where my destination will be. I went in the same direction of the flower shop, but I continue on further, walking until I came upon a café. The shop occupies the corner of the block, deep green on the outside as well as the tiles and countertops. The walls and chairs stand out in an off-white as the tables and counters itself is a dark brown. Small plants settle on a counter in front of the shop and a few plants decorate the interior. Few people bustle around within the café, and I took my time to stay there with a cup of tea and a simple sandwich, walking further in the back to a more secluded lounge area I nearly did not notice.

 I take a seat in front of the window, watching the people slowly accumulate as the afternoon rolls by. Soon, the café fills with people, and the lounge area becomes loud with chatter and movement. I took the time to watch as people take seats near strangers, not giving a care in the world as they pay little attention to others, or filling up a section of the seats with friends and family. Some glances pass my area, though no one truly takes the time to ask or sit beside me, and if I can guess, it may be because of my appearance. I watch for a bit before turning my attention back out the window to watch as others walk by and around, heading towards a destination I will never know of.

The sun starts to descend against the horizon when a tap reaches my shoulders and I look up. Standing beside me, a group of three asks to the seats occupying my space to which I smile politely and tell them it was fine. The blonde young man with his hair tied back thanks me with a smile before settling down. His companions follow, the other male thanking me as well, while the female nods in thanks. I watch them a bit as they unpack some of their items, books and lecture notes, speaking of this and that, and soon, I smile along with their conversation. When I first notice my actions, I apologize, smiling sheepishly.

“Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around!” The blonde one asks, directly sending attention to me. I smile before shaking my head.

“I’ve lived here for about three years now. I haven’t really… Been exploring the area much, however. This is my first time seeing this café.”

“I see. By the way, I’m Armin Arlert! They are Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman. We all just moved here recently, a few months ago, to be exact. We’re all attending the community college here.”

“My name is Marco Bodt. It’s nice to meet you all. What are you guys majoring in?”

I find that Armin is going into medical science, but he might not keep his major as he wants to explore other options. Eren and Mikasa are both undecided, choosing to attend with Armin as they always planned to do.

“But why did you come here? You could have stayed at your other city, right? Ah! If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“There were too many memories there that we needed to get away from,” Eren answers, staring at me intensely, indicating to me not to question it any further. “Besides, if Armin does decide to take classes in medicine or whatever, he can easily transfer to another university through a program, so it was a good deal.”

  Eren stops talking, lips purse together, turning white, eyes blazing with anger and fist clenched tightly against the pen he holds. Mikasa lightly places her hang over his, easing away the tension. They both look at one another, speaking through the deep connection of their relationship as Armin looks between them while sticking close to Eren, eyes with worry. When the tension dissipates, they all turn back to work before Armin looks up at me with a smile.

“Do you also attend college here?”

My head fills with dread and my face flushes in embarrassment, eye darting to the table as I take a few moments to myself to breathe and calm my running heart.

“No,” I say with a slight shake of head, “Well, I was in college before… well, this happened.”

My left hand raises and brush against the scar laden shoulder, slowly making its way up to my eye. The three look stricken with shock, Armin paling and stuttering an apology to me. I take it in stride, though my heart still races, and shake my head a bit, silencing him.

“It’s fine. It just happened. I’m getting used to this lifestyle the way I am.”

I smile at them, though it feels a little strain, and though the air is a bit thick, the trio attempts to avert the conversation elsewhere, to both my and their relief. We chat until Eren stares at the clock, swearing and shoving supplies into his bag, dropping a few things and swearing some more as he states that he’d be late for work if he stays here any long. He runs out the café before there is any chance to bid him farewell. Armin and Mikasa also packs, both wanting to head back home to rest as they have morning classes. Amin bids me farewell on the way out, and Mikasa nods at me before trailing off. I wave a bit before looking at the clock myself, surprise filling me as I realize it is quite late and I should also be heading off.

I take my time, not in a rush to meet an appointment, before leaving and bidding the workers good night. Upon reaching home, Jean greets me, eyes deep with worry, grumbling and grousing over how I need to learn how to call him when I stay out late. He hugs me tightly, breathing in against my neck as I lean against him, enjoying this moment. When we part, I peck his lips with a smile before asking what it is he wishes to have for dinner.

“You.”

I stop walking to turn back to him, face flaring with heat, heart beating against my ear drums as I take in a shaky breath. I walk back to him, staring down at his red face as he grins back at me before pulling me down for a kiss, slow and sensual, sending shivers down my spine. When we part, I laugh a bit before rubbing my nose against his, stepping back once with a shake of my head.

“I meant real food, Jean. All I’ve had was a sandwich and tea all day.”

I walk back to the kitchen, mumbling to myself that he can have my later, though a squeak travels through the air indicating that he hears my mumbling, making me laugh under my breath as I prepare food. I call out to him again to ask if he wants anything as well, and he just asks for whatever I have. A sigh leaves my lips as I contently prepare dinner, making sure to avoid anything Jean dislikes lest I want to hear him moan over how he has a hard time eating it as it tears apart his taste buds. His exaggerations get worse and worse as he finds new things to complain about, though it amuses me more than anything when he leans over to me and begs me to help him fix his problems. He’s such a child sometimes.

After setting up the table, I call him over and listen to him talk about his day, laughing when he yells about a “Jaeger guy who pisses him off,” though he never explains why this person upsets him. He going on a tirade over this and that and soon, I realize the conversation takes a turn to the trio I met today. When I mention it to him, his eyes widen and he tells me not to get too close to that Eren because of this and that and soon, I find out that Jean has an infatuation with Mikasa. This realization slams into me, knocking the breath out of me as I continue to listen to him go on and on about how beautiful Jean finds Mikasa, and my heart thunders in my chest. I keep my mouth shut, smiling and nodding every once in a while as the meal continues, losing my appetite as my mind whirls.

“Jean mentioned Mikasa before. Now, Jean talks about her as though he’s in love.”

This thought comes to mind and I apologize to him, saying I lost my appetite and that I was a bit tired. His eyes widen and he gets up, but I tell him to finish up eating as I head to bed. I lay there, mind going over the insecurity that bursts inside my head, attacking me and telling me.

“Jean might not love me anymore,” I clench my eyes shut before mumbling, “Where did you go?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> *A pink camellia's means "longing for you." The meaning lies more in a positive aspect than what was present in this chapter, but this is an angst fic which is . . . eh.
> 
> *I believe I will be updating Caught In A Web every two weeks on a Saturday. This is still not concrete, as I mentioned before that there is another fanfic I am also working on.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed your stay!


	3. Pink Camellia (Cont.)

I visit the café much more often after the realization that Jean became smitten with someone else. I feel as though the thought of Mikasa now processes through Jean’s brain more than anything, and the knowledge suffocates me that Jean does not even realize what he continues to do. It’s been a couple weeks since then, and I now spend my days escaping his attention in order to allow myself some breathing time. After all, we were not officially together; the both of us only went with the flow, and now, I feel as though my feelings were pushed onto him, and he only succumbed to it in order to allow me to feel more comfortable.

                The more I think about it, the more my heart races and clenches, squeezing more insecurity into my head. I sigh and stare out the window, mind wandering and shutting out everything around me, no longer concentrating on anything. My daze breaks with a tap on my shoulder, and as I look up at the figure before me, the timid smile and blue eyes behind glasses, my head pounds and my heart rushes, my eye fleetingly staring around the figure, searching for the one Jean is so enamored with. When my mind processes no one there, I gulp and stare back at the other, throwing them a smile before nodding at their presence.

                “You look a bit pale, Marco,” Armin states as he sits beside me, removing materials from his bag to place on the table. He takes a moment to look at me, waiting for my response, only to return to his task when I took too long to speak up.

                “I’m fine,” I watch as he fetches more and more paper and books out his bag, wondering how much work he needs to get done. “Are Mikasa and Eren not coming?”

                “Oh, no. Not today,” he’s now shuffling through his papers, scrambling to separate them into appropriate piles and searching for something, eyes furrow in frustration. “Eren has work and Mikasa went out with some of her friends.”

                I let out a breath, silently telling myself that I should stop being silly, but my mind races and I’m staring back out the window. Armin continues to shuffle through his papers, the ruffling and rumpling sounding beside me, and I feel a bit upset; at myself, for being ridiculous and jealous and needy over something that no one could control. A heavy sigh escapes my lips and I turn my attention to the cup of coffee in front of me, cold from sitting so long, yet I pay no attention until I take a sip, grimacing at the taste, and setting it back down. Armin is now staring at me, a look of concern flashes before he places his papers down.

                “Are you ok, Marco?”

                “I’m fine,” the response was automatic and quick, startling Armin a bit at the way it rips out my lips. I wince and apologize, rubbing at my eyes a bit before I stand. “Sorry, Armin, I just remembered I needed to go somewhere.”

                I apologize again, walking away with the cup in hand, placing it on the counter before walking out, breathing in a bit before venturing towards the flower shop. As I walk, I feel terrible for the way I treated Armin at the café, and vow to apologize more sincerely when I see him again. I hum as I walk to the shop with the route in mind, looking out for anything different I did not see and taking care to make sure I don’t stumble.

                Stepping into the store, being welcome by Christa and the bell overhead, I wander about, staring at flowers I saw my last visit and flowers I know are new. Christa stands beside me with a smile, asking me how I was, to which I smile back with a, “I’m fine. How are you?”

                The routine follows with a bit of small talk, Christa walking back and forth between me and any customers who look for flowers, making me wonder if I might be a hindrance. She pats my shoulders with a light smile, almost as though she reads my thoughts, before walking away and coming back with a flower, pink in color.

                “This is a pink camellia. In the language of flowers, it means ‘longing for you.’”

                My face contorts and flushes, but she chuckles a bit, looking down at the flower with a gaze I can recognize. Her smile was light, cheeks flush red and eyes glimmering with joy, and I look around, noticing someone missing from the seen, realizing that it’s been a while since Ymir appeared.

                “Ymir’s been busy with work,” she shrugs before moving the flower back to its spot. “I suppose I do miss her a bit more than I would have imagined.”

                My mind paralyzes, unsure of what to say, understanding, in a sense, how she feels. Then, I think, “But Jean is here. Jean is right in front of me.” The thought does not ease me, but makes me tense with worry and fear, and Christa looks at me knowingly, before walking off at the sound of the bell, greeting another customer. I take in a deep breath, brushing my hair back, and look back at the pink camellias, feeling as though I had no choice but to buy some, to take the time to identify and acknowledge my feelings. I sigh once more, looking at Christa who nods at me, understanding what I need, before setting off to get the flowers, wrapping and ribbons ready.

                Everything looks perfect; Christa always takes her time to be precise and neat, even with such a simple thing as wrapping up flowers, something I can’t put my mind into, shaking my head as though telling myself I would never be able to pull it off as she does. She snorts a bit at my reaction, startling me, before I broke out into a smile, a bit of laughter nearly jumping out, but I broke my hand up to my lips, coughing into it before taking the flowers, paying, and setting out with a farewell. She waves me out, smiling before attending another customer.

                I take my time walking back home, my mind racing through how to approach Jean about everything, only to backtrack, restart a new route in order to allow me more time, and continue to think about something I inevitably have to talk about. It takes me multiple routes, new stores found, and soon, I stand before the door of the house, staring at it, willing it to open on its own, but it does not do as I hope. I take more deep breaths, telling myself it’s alright, that I’m fine and nothing bad will happen, but I stay there, lost in my own anxiety.

                “Marco?”

                I spin around quickly, staring back at the figure before me, heart hammering and throat swollen with fright, the flowers falling out of my hands before I scramble to pick it up, accidentally slamming my head against the side of the door, the pain shooting through my head. Another hands shoots into my field of vision, rubbing against the area I injured. My eye waters and my throat constricts as I grab at the hand rubbing against me, pulling it over my eye as I lean against it, tears leaking out against my will as I sniffle and whimper past clenched teeth, body shaking from the anxiety and tears and exhaustion.

                “Shit, Marco. You’re going to be ok. It’s just a bump, alright?”

                Jean moves about, the sound of keys clanging against one another and soon, the door is open and he’s pulling me in with him, stumbling over the flowers, but paying it no mind. As I step past the flowers, the thoughts of how much I miss Jean wells in me, the pit of my stomach fluttering with butterflies and nausea, and a flower is pressed against the floor; flatten by the shoe that mindlessly stood overhead. I turn my head, pressing it against Jean as he brings me to the bedroom, sitting us both down before attempting to pull me away, only to fail as I cling to him, desperately holding him as tight against me as possible. He moves to rub his hands against my back before he kisses the top of my head and breathes in deeply.

                “I miss you so much,” I choke out, attempting to pull him closer to me.

                “Hah?” Jean tenses a bit before shifting and peeling me away. “What are you talking about? I haven’t gone anywhere.”

                I look at him in the eyes, staring dazedly into the confusion that soaks his being. I raise my hand, trailing it from the corner of his eye to his lips before dropping it and averting my eye, getting up and walking out the room. I walk to the entrance, a few petals spread across the floor, trampled and forgotten. I lift my head up, stifling the tears, ignoring Jean’s concern calls, and pull the door open to pick up the pink camellia, its wrapping askew and petals missing and bent and broken. I take a moment to mourn the flowers before turning back to Jean, staring at him through tears, no longer attempting to smile as the pain remains strong and the negativity hangs over me.

                Jean stands there, stuttering an apology, telling me he’d buy me flowers, that he didn’t mean to forget about them and another apology and swearing. We stand by the doorway for a pause, Jean taking in deep breaths, waiting for me, and I, waiting for him. But he does not move. I feel unwelcome to this house, to Jean, and I know it’s silly and my own mind overreacting, but the heavy feeling sinks deeper into me as I let out a sigh, weak and feeble. I walk up, the pink camellia in front of me, between Jean and I, a makeshift barrier that grows into a wall. I hand Jean the flowers, before walking past him.

                “Marco, I’m sorry. For whatever I did.”

                I stop mid-step and shook my head, frustration and anger for myself welling and overflowing.

                “No. It’s not your fault.”

                _After all, longing for you when you’re still here is just ridiculous._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. I forgot today was Friday. Well, crap. It's 2 minutes til Saturday. Oh. Whatever, I made it in time. (I'm totally just like WHEEZE WHY DID I FORGET I'M NOT READY)  
> Today was busy, BUT HERE YOU GO.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! This is my second work and the second part to Caught. It is a longer, continued version, which I actually morphed two stories into one since they both worked around similarly in my head. As it is, there's going to be a lot of angst revolving around Jean and Marco.
> 
> I will be updating every 2-3 weeks as I'm working on another JeanMarco fic at the same time. Once I get into a regular schedule, I will tell you all how often things will be posted.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this story!


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